


What a Feeling

by niffizzle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:11:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9453686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niffizzle/pseuds/niffizzle
Summary: Hermione and Weasley had been together for the past five years, since the end of the war. They had a great love story: met at Hogwarts as first years, went from enemies to friends, helped defeat the Dark Lord together, fell in love, yada yada yada. Even thinking about it made Draco sick to his stomach. Hermione and Weasley were the world’s most perfect couple. Too bad it was all a big facade.





	

Draco mindlessly swished around the amber liquid in his glass as he ignored the words of the lowlife ministry official he’d been assigned to sit next to that evening. He’d been forced to go to this ministry gala since, after all, it was being held in his honor. Upon remembering this fact, Draco scoffed under his breath and finished the rest of his drink in one fell swoop. Apparently, if you give the ministry enough money, they ignore your evil past and throw a huge party to celebrate. If only he could do the same. Maybe if he got a little drunker, this evening would be a bit more tolerable. Without even pretending to excuse himself, Draco pushed back his chair and left the table, heading for the bar.

Galas had never been his idea of fun. He pulled at his shirt’s stiff collar, aching to remove the tie that hung around his neck like a noose. Ministry functions were by far the most difficult for Draco to endured. As he looked around the room, he was surrounded by people who had made his life a living hell – or even worse, people whose lives he had made a living hell. In the first few years after the war, he had naively thought that he’d be able to numb his pain by donating to just causes to rectify his insurmountable number of errors. Even after selling the manor and giving all the money from the sale to charity, he still fought demons inside his head.

The only time Draco felt any sort of comfort nowadays was when he was with the girl who he had at one time considered one of his greatest enemies. But if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t truly considered her the enemy in around six or seven years.

“Back again?” the bartender smirked as she already had another glass in her hand, ready to serve Draco another round.

“I essentially paid for everyone’s drinks here tonight, so I think I deserve a few more than everyone else,” Draco replied without even making eye contact with her.

As the bartender grabbed the bottle of single malt whiskey and poured a generous amount, Draco rested his arms on the bar, facing the dance floor. He heard the clink of the full glass hit bar, and he reached back to grab it, immediately bringing it to his lips to drink. Throughout this, his eyes never wavered from the young witch across the room who could capture his attention any time, any place.

She looked good tonight – not that she didn’t always look good, of course. It was just that tonight, he could tell that she had put in an extra amount of effort. Her usually bushy hair had been slicked back into a tight bun, allowing Draco to fully appreciate the soft features of her face. He smirked as he noticed a few strands of curly hair already beginning to stray from their place. Silly girl, she knew it was impossible to fully tame that lion’s mane of hair.

Draco began to take another sip of his drink, but almost choked when he noticed the robes that she was wearing. They were sleek black and hugged her figure nicely, making her look slimmer than she already was. It took everything in Draco not to sneak up behind her and put his arms around that delicate waist of hers, rest his head on her shoulder and bite her neck. Shaking the fantasy out of his mind, Draco made a mental note that he had definitely bought the right robes for her and would have to give her another set soon.

Draco’s slight bliss was completely shattered when he recognized who she was with. He knew she would be there with him, but it never didn’t hurt to see Weasley with _his_ Granger.

The tie around Draco’s neck started to irritate him again, so he unceremoniously ripped it off and downed the rest of his drink. He slammed the glass down, and with his back still to the bar, exclaimed, “Another!” He was definitely going to need to be drunker if he was going to get through this evening.

Hermione and Weasley had been together for the past five years, since the end of the war. They had a great love story: met at Hogwarts as first years, went from enemies to friends, helped defeat the Dark Lord together, fell in love, yada yada yada. Even thinking about it made Draco sick to his stomach. Hermione and Weasley were the world’s most perfect couple. Too bad it was all a big facade.

After a few minutes of staring at Hermione, she finally looked his way, a slight sparkle in her eyes as she quickly reverted her glance to Weasley and whomever they were talking to. Draco’s heart raced just at the sight of her. It may have been a year since they had started secretly seeing each other, but she never failed to make him feel like a teenager in love. He watched as Hermione politely excused herself from their conversation and started making her way towards the bar.

Draco looked on either side of him to make sure that no one around. The coast was clear except for the bartender. “Do me a favor,” Draco said, calling her attention. “The whiskey isn’t quite up to my standards.”

“You’ve had five already,” she said defensively. “I would think that’s a pretty good sign that it’s good enough.”

“And now I’m drunk and want something nicer.” Draco curled up one side of his lips and slid her pouch full of galleons. “Be a doll and go get something worthy of man of my status.”

With a roll of her eyes, the bartender disapparated, the pouch of galleons in her hand.

“I sure hope you don’t talk to all women that way.”

Draco bit his bottom lip and then immediately smiled as he turned around to the welcome presence of Hermione Granger standing behind him.

“Well hello, darling,” he said, we a mischievous grin. “Nice robes.” With her clutch, Hermione smacked Draco on the shoulder, only causing him to smile even more. He always enjoyed when she got particularly feisty with him. “Careful there, or people may begin to think that you and I no longer hate each other.”

“Oh, shut it, Malfoy,” she retorted while taking a seat on one of the bar stools.

Acting as if he owned the place, Draco moved to behind the bar and pulled out a glass from one of the top shelves. “Back to calling me Malfoy? Maybe you _are_ back to hating me.”

She subtly kicked him from under the bar. Slightly rising from her seat, she whispered in his ear, “You know that could never actually happen.”  

The blood in Draco’s body rushed to his face with her close proximity. His fingers yearned to caress her face and kiss her right then and there. With nothing else to do with his hands, he decided to fix the tie around his neck so he didn’t look quite so shabby compared to the impeccable Granger. Then the images of Hermione at the gala with Weasley resurfaced and the excitement he had felt was instantly gone. He turned his back to her as he searched for wine amongst all the hard liquor. Eventually finding a previously opened bottle, he removed the cork with his teeth and poured Hermione a glass. His face was still dull, but he tried to fake it with a slight smile. He knew he couldn’t fool Hermione for long, though.

She gave him a quizzical look as he gave her the glass, and she took a sip. “What’s wrong? You were so happy a few moments ago.” Draco didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned up against the bar and looked off distantly into the crowd. Hermione followed his gaze and realized who he was staring at. She looked back at Draco, tears starting to pool in her eyes. “Draco, you know there’s nothing going on with me and Ron.”

Draco dragged his right index finger around the rim of his glass, opting to look down instead of at her. “A year into this and you still don’t have the courage to confess to the world that the war heroine is in love with an ex-Death Eater.” He moved his finger off the rim of his glass and began tracing his left forearm.

Hermione grabbed his hand. “Don’t think of yourself that way, Draco. You didn’t have a choice. It’s the choices you’re making now that show me who you truly are. Look at how much good you’ve done over the past few years!” Her eyes now wandered to her drink, avoiding his gaze as she continued. “But you know it’s not what I think that matters right now. The world’s still too broken to see us together compared to this fabricated image of me and Ron…”

Draco could hear the pain in her voice even as she said those words. They had had this conversation countless times before, but it hurt nonetheless. Draco hung his head low as he murmured, “Maybe what they really need is to see a war hero forgiving a Death Eater.”

Hermione looked at him with initial shock, but then a spark of inspiration dawned on her face. Draco knew that look, and it usually didn’t end well for him. Hermione must have some grand idea that was probably going to implicate him in some way or another. Before she could speak, they heard a loud crack as the bartender apparated back to her post.

Noticing that Draco was behind the bar, she said with a huff, “I know you donated a lot of money for this shindig, but that doesn’t mean you get to run my bar when I’m not here.” Draco rolled his eyes as he left. As he approached the other side, though, Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the dance floor. They were almost out of earshot when he heard the bartender shout, “Hey! What about your whiskey?”

Draco was too concerned with what Hermione was doing to register a response to the question. Hermione was marching through the maze of tables, maneuvering herself around the masses of people as if she needed to get to her destination as soon as possible. When they reached the dance floor, she stopped, faced him, and curtsied. Draco laughed at her attempt to be high-society. For the second time that evening, Hermione hit Draco with her clutch. “Dance with me, you fool!” she commanded.

Draco gulped and grabbed his tie around his neck for a moment to let in some air. What was Hermione up to? He rubbed his two sweaty palms together and then dried them on his own robes before grabbing Hermione’s right hand, intertwining her fingers with his. He spun her around one time, before catching her with his left hand, placing it on the small of her back. His heart raced, half because he was with Hermione, half because he knew that every eye in the ballroom was bound to be on them.

“Relax your shoulders,” Hermione instructed.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t my first gala. I know how to dance.”

She let out a huff and gave Draco a stare. “Then prove it, and dance with me!” Draco smiled, unable to resist anything that she so fiercely wanted. With a deep look into her eyes, Draco let the surrounding world disappear, focusing solely on himself and Hermione. He took control of her body and led her through the movements of the dance, easily gliding across the floor. As he spun her around again, he admired as Hermione’s robes fluttered around her. The flashing around them caused her dress to catch the light, sparking like she was a true goddess. 

He caught her after two spins and dipped her down, pausing for a moment to stare into her eyes. Draco couldn’t believe how lucky he was to actually be dancing with Hermione at this moment. He wasn’t sure what had caused her to change her mind about being with him in public, even for this brief moment, but he wasn’t going to spoil it by asking questions. Instead, he savored every second. He soaked in the genuine smile that was on her face as she beamed up at him, her cheeks slightly rosy from the dancing. Her bun was becoming a bit more unkempt, but a few loose curls couldn’t stop her from looking absolutely exquisite. Nothing made Draco happier than seeing an uninhibited Hermione, forgetting what she was supposed to do and following what her heart truly desired. For the first time in ages, she was showing the wizarding world the real Hermione Granger – one who was confident, free spirited, and in love with Draco Malfoy – even if the rest of the world had no idea that the last fact was truest of them all.

As the song ended, the surrounding crowd politely clapped as Hermione and Draco curtsied and bowed to each other. Hermione had a joyous grin spread across her face that Draco knew wasn’t solely caused by the dance. She looked around the room, and with a satisfied nod, announced, “Yep, that should do it.”

Draco began to ask for more details, but just as he opened his mouth, Hermione pulled him away from the dance floor and rushed on with her explanation. “When you said that the world needed to see me with a former Death Eater, it got me thinking that it actually wasn’t a bad idea. The world obviously doesn’t need to know that we’re seeing each other, but just needed to get used to the idea that we could interact friendlily! Obviously the Ministry is fine with you seeing they’re throwing you this gala, and we still have a long way to go, but…”

Draco started to tune out her words. He knew he should be listening to her full explanation, but he had heard what he wanted to hear. She was taking steps so that one day, their relationship could potentially be public. This opened up a world of possibilities in Draco’s mind. At future events, he’d be able to dance with her for more than just one song and not have to bribe a bartender just to have a little bit of alone time with her.

He imagined maybe even having her name tied to his at some of these receptions…

“And if this all works out, Ron and I can announce our ‘break up.’ Of course, I’ll have to appear sad for a while, and we’d have to wait a proper amount of time before we begin dating in public. We wouldn’t want people to think that you were some sort of rebound or that you took advantage of my emotional vulnerability…”

Draco shook is head, admiring her enthusiasm. With each new thought, it appeared as if stars were in her eyes, envisioning every slight glimmer of hope for their future.  It all seemed too good to be true. He wished he could stay stuck in the fantasy, but he was forced back to reality when he caught sight of someone from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was heading their way. She really needed to stop rambling before they had their own catastrophe in their hands, but so far, the only effective way Draco had learned to shut her up was by kissing her. As much as he wanted to, he wasn’t about to do that here. So if he couldn’t kiss her, he’d have to completely kill her mood.

“Ms. Granger, thank you for your time, but I really must insist that you get back to your beloved boyfriend,” Draco said, reverting to his proper, society-approved self. Hermione was so dumbstruck to hear this tone from him that she immediately stopped her speech.   “As for myself, I must get back to greeting all these people and thanking them for the umpteenth time for not throwing me into Azkaban.” Draco bowed his head, and turned away from Hermione, quite pleased with himself.

The evening droned on a bit longer, with Draco only returning to the bar once more for a glass of his overpriced and not that much better whiskey. He’d said hello to all the right people, but Draco wasn’t in the mood for small talk. For an event at which he was supposed to be the man of the night, he sure didn’t have a lot of friends there. At the moment, this didn’t bother Draco. He admittedly didn’t have much left in common with his old Slytherin classmates anymore, and his parents hadn’t talked to him since he’d refused to marry some pure-blood girl and they fled to France. All that mattered to Draco was that he was starting to slowly fill that empty void inside himself by being with Hermione.

Draco took one final long sip of whiskey and left a few galleons on the bar as a tip. The event was drawing to a close, so he figured it was an appropriate time for him to finally duck out. He saw that Hermione was still there, making her rounds, laughing at Weasley’s inevitably awful jokes, and holding onto his arm like an eight year old who just got her first broom. Draco chuckled at the sight, and assured himself that someday, that would be him in Weasley’s position.

He reached his seat and noticed that the boring Ministry worker was now fast asleep, passed out on top of the table. Draco carefully removed his coat partially trapped under the man’s arm, and then slipped it on over his robes. Without saying another word to any more of the guests, Draco headed towards the door. He chanced a final look at Hermione as he walked past, and she was already staring right back at him. She mouthed something, but Draco couldn’t quite figure out what she was saying. Clearly agitated, she rolled her eyes, tapped her hipbone, and smirked. Catching onto her clues, Draco reached into his coat pocket and found a note from Hermione.

_Your place. 10pm. I bet my new robes look just as good off as they do on._

Merlin, have mercy on Draco’s heart.

***

The morning sun cracked through the curtains in Draco’s bedroom way earlier than he wanted. Draco groggily reached for his wand on his nightstand, but gave up when it was out of reach. Moving just seemed like too much of an effort for not enough pay off. Instead, Draco rolled over in his bed and curved his body around Hermione lying next to him.

Waking next to Hermione was Draco’s favorite feeling in the world, knowing that  _he_ managed to be the one beside her somehow.  It was a daily reminder that he had someone who firmly believed that he was a changed person and was worthy of respect and love. It also didn’t hurt that her soft skin felt absolutely intoxicating next to his. He nuzzled against her warmth and sunk his head into her mass of hair. Draco smiled, remembering their difficulties last night at taking it out of the bun. Unsurprisingly, she had needed to use some pretty-permanent sticking spells in order for it stay put – that and some muggle product called “hairspray.”

He soaked in her scent and started tracing the outline of her body with his index finger, admiring Hermione’s sleeping naked body pressed up against him. His fingers wandered up and down the side of her stomach, and traveled to her mass of hair. Draco twirled a few strands of curls around his finger before moving down along her neck, grazing her chest. He paused at her nipples, twisted two fingers, causing them to harden with his touch. Hermione started to moan, giving Draco the green light to keep going. He cupped Hermione’s entire breast in the palm of his hand, and began to massage it, releasing more hushed moans from Hermione’s lips. Unable to resist any long, Draco went for Hermione’s neck, placing hungry kisses along its base. His hand trailed along Hermione’s stomach and reached her inner thigh, beginning to subtly move up and down next to the area he was desperate to enter.

“Window,” Hermione muttered, still half-asleep. Draco quickly removed himself from Hermione to grab his wand from the dresser, and with a quick swoosh of his wand, all the curtains on the windows in his room rustled closed, blocking the rest of the world from their private paradise.   He anxiously returned next to Hermione, spreading his kisses down her chest and stomach.

“Draco, the window,” Hermione said with slightly more conviction.

Draco lifted his face from just above Hermione’s lower lips. “They’re already closed, babe,” he stated with a seductive smirk. His tongue left his mouth, ready to please his wild haired minx, but Hermione suddenly scooted up in bed, leaving him falling flat onto the bed. “What was that for?” Draco exasperated.

Hermione was now fully out of bed, covering her body with the bed comforter. She walked towards the window, reopened the curtains, and lifted up the windowpane. In fluttered an anxious owl, which dropped off the morning _Daily Prophet_ before immediately turning around and leaving the flat. Draco sat up on the corner of the bed, slightly irritated with Hermione. “The news can wait. Come back, and let’s finish what we started.”

The words clearly had no impact on Hermione. Still wrapped in the blankets, she grabbed the newspaper from off the floor and left the room. Draco sighed and let his body fall back onto the bed. He loved Hermione, but once that girl set her mind on something, it was impossible to bring her back from it. The bed was still warm from her body, and Draco savored it seeing it was apparently all he was going to get that morning. He peeked a look down his body and saw that he was just as frustrated physically as he was mentally. Guess he was left dealing with that one on his own.

Draco reluctantly got off the bed and grabbed his bathroom robe off a hook in his closet. Still in the midst of wrapping it around his body, he left the bedroom, finding Hermione seated at the kitchen table, already furiously flipping through the pages of the _Daily Prophet_. Her nose scrunched up and she sported a slight frown with each new page she skimmed through. The sight made Draco go wild, appreciating how a simple task like reading the paper could make her look so adorable. Draco walked up behind her and slipped the comforter off her back. He bent down and traced kisses along the edge of her shoulder.

“This can wait. Come back to bed,” he insisted, but suddenly she jumped up in excitement, mindless to the fact that Draco was there at all. On her way up, her shoulder whacked Draco’s nose, causing him to knock his head back and clasp his nose in pain.

“Here it is!” she said eagerly, standing up, pointing down to an image in the paper rested on the table.

“Here what is?” Draco indulged her, while still gripping his throbbing nose.

“I knew it would be here this morning! I must admit that I’m surprised that it’s not closer to the front of the paper, but I guess that’s also a good thing cause that means it’s really not that big of breaking news? Like if it was something so shocking, it would be a more prominent story, right?” Hermione was rambling again, but Draco just smiled at her passion. He looked down at the paper to see what got her so excited and was surprised to see a photo of himself and Hermione dancing from the night before.

“There were photographers last night?” Draco said in disbelief. He had been so soaked up in the moment of being there with Hermione that he guessed he didn’t even notice what had been going on around them.

Hermione sat back down, in the process, grabbing her massive locks of hair and gathered them in a bushy ponytail. Still looking down at the paper, Hermione continued with her thinking. “Of course there were reporters there! It was a big Ministry event, so it was bound to be covered, but we’re the picture!” Her eyes darted back and forth across the text of the page. “The article mentions us too!

‘In attendance were several important society wizards, including Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and guest of honor, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was recognized for his years of service to the community, including his most recent million-galleon donation to St. Mungo’s psychiatric wing for people still suffering mentally from the effects of the Second Wizarding War. Guests danced away the evening, removing barriers that once ruled our community.’

This is incredible! It shows us together, but doesn’t explicitly talk about it, which is probably for the best. We don’t want people to think I’m cheating on Ron with you anyway. And it talks about you so favorably! It doesn’t even use the phrase Death Eater once!” Hermione finally looked up at Draco. She cocked her head with confusion. “What happened to your nose?”

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling. “Nothing, dear. This is great news.”  

He kissed her on her forehead. He went into the kitchen, and put some coffee grounds into a pot, and swished his wand, instantly turning it into liquid. “I’m going to take a quick shower, but when I come back out, you can tell me more about what this means for us.”

As expected, Hermione didn’t wait one beat before continuing with her analysis. “’Removing barriers that once ruled our community.’ Hmm.” She tapped her lips with a quill in her hand. “I imagine that’s their way of subtly talking about you and me dancing. The barrier, of course, being that you were a Death Eater and that I’m muggleborn, but they don’t say that which is really quite a big step I’d say. Usually the _Daily Prophet_ tries to make a huge deal out of nothing. Then again, it helps that Rita Skeeter is no longer writing for them. Fenetre wrote it – he’s not too bad of a reporter. Imagine if it had been Amerinus!”

While Hermione had continued speaking, Draco had finished his morning coffee, and was already undressed in the bathroom. He stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, arms crossed, towel around his waist, patiently waiting for her to take a breath so he could pause her. “Sweetie, I told you I needed to take a shower. Now, you either join me in here and keep talking, or you wait until I get out so that I can properly listen.” Hermione pursed her lips and pretended to zip them closed. Draco smirked. “I would have much preferred the first option,” he joked and slowly closed the door.

Draco turned on the water in the shower, and let it run for a few moments before stepping into its warm heat. Now in the luxury of solitude, Draco was finally able to do something about the pain he’d been aching to appease since Hermione left bed. The water fell down on top of Draco as he placed his left arm up against the wall for balance and stroked himself with his right. Draco began slowly, pumping blood back into his cock. As he moved, he thought about the news Hermione had shared – they actually had a shot at being a real couple! Just the thought of being with Hermione made him excited in more ways than one. He had been so desperate for release that it didn’t take long for Draco to finish. He came quickly, panting with relief.

Dismissed of the tension, Draco closed his eyes and lifted his head to let the water rush down on his face. When he opened them, his eyes fell onto his left arm. The Dark Mark had faded over time but continued to be a constant reminder that his old actions left a permanent scar – not just on himself, but on the world. Usually, looking at the mark made him angry, but Draco was determined to fix his perception about the situation. Hermione was right. He’d made grave mistakes in the past, but he was making the right choices now. If she could forgive him, then there was a glimmer of hope that the rest of the world could, too.

He shut off the water, feeling much more relaxed than he had before. Stepping out of the shower, Draco dried himself off and put his robe back on. He took a look at himself in the mirror. He stroked the stubble growing across his face. The stubble gave him a grimier look than he had ever sported back in his days at Hogwarts. If his parents could see him now, they would definitely not approve of this look. That thought only made him want to make sure that he kept his appearances looking this way.

Draco left the bathroom and immediately returned to Hermione, who was now fully dressed for the day, but still attending to the newspaper at the kitchen table. She was completely engrossed in the paper, oblivious to the fact that Draco was done showering. There was a quill in her hands, and she was tapping it anxiously. Draco loved her passion, but would it kill her to pay a bit of attention to him this morning? He snuck up behind her, and grabbed her by her sides, snapping her out of her focus. She jerked up, and he grabbed the newspaper off the table, examining what she was so concentrated on.

“I thought we had an agreement!” Draco exclaimed in false anger. “When we spend the night at my place, the morning crossword puzzle is _mine_.” He lifted the newspaper with the practically finished crossword above his head. Hermione pushed her chair back, and jumped up trying to grab it. Draco laughed watching her efforts to reclaim it, Hermione fully playing in on the game.

“Give it to me, Draco! I’m so close to finishing!” Hermione half-heartedly complained.

“Now you know how I felt this morning,” Draco sniped back, sporting a full on smile at this point. Hermione let out an exaggerated gasp as she playfully hit him. “And now we’re back to the hitting? You know that’s not how we get our things back.”

Hermione scrambled to stand on top of the chair to grab it back from Draco, but he simply ran away from the kitchen. The two of them chased each other around the living area, fully enjoying the childish game. Draco made a sprint for the bedroom, but not fast enough, as a giggling Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco, slowing him down.

Reaching his destination, Draco dived face first onto the bed, Hermione still clinging onto him. Draco rolled over, pinning Hermione under his weight. He extended his arms, up in the air, examining his prize. “For being the ‘brightest witch of our age,’ you would think you could spell a bit better,” Draco teased.

Hermione found her strength and pushed Draco off of her. She grabbed the newspaper out of his hands. “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped defensively.

“Seventeen across. It’s Nicholas  _F-l-a-m-e-l_ , not Nicholas _F-l-a-m-l-e.”_ Draco exaggerated his letters as he fixed Hermione’s spelling, doing his best impression of a younger version of her.

Hermione looked back at the paper and glanced up in the air, as if trying to access the information in her head. After a few seconds, she scrunched up her nose. “I hate it when you’re right.”

Draco grabbed her by the waist, dragging her into his embrace. “Admit it. You love it when I’m right.” He pulled her full on and planted her lips on top of his own. He pulled away from the kiss, but only slightly. His face still next to hers, he moved his hands behind her head and released her hair from its ponytail. Then he whispered in her ear, “But if you steal my crossword puzzle again, we’re over.”

Hermione pushed him back and he fell flat on the bed. She straddled on top of him, and broke out in full-hearted laughter. “I love you, you fool.”

Draco grabbed her shirt, bringing her lips to his again. “I love you, too.”

And in that moment, Draco had everything he could ever want.


End file.
